The scene is a dingy basement club in Edinburgh.
A while ago, I tried to chat up a lovely-looking Turkish girl on a sticky and murky dancefloor, a task made at once easier and infinitely more difficult by the fact that I was pissed as a bastard and in no fit state to be out in public. To her credit she dealt my drunken advances fairly patiently, up until I pulled my trump card: an absolutely ripe one that smelled like the aftermath of a mighty battle between cabbages and eggs.

I couldn't really hide that I had just stenched the house down, but by God my alcohol-raddled brain thought it had just the plan. She provided me with the perfect opening when she asked "did you just fart?". Aha! thought I. There's room for doubt! It all depends on my next line!

"I thought that was you."

Needless to say, she didn't go near me for the rest of the night. I had the last laugh though, as I cracked one out when I got home that night and managed to avoid weeping.
(StapMyVitals wouldn't mind a bit of that, Sat 5 Feb 2011, 15:34, 5 replies)

Brilliant.
Clicky.
(emadex thinks the world will end on, Sat 5 Feb 2011, 16:14, closed)

Yep, Sorry!
Oh God it's worse than I thought. Lets get away from here. My place?


probably wouldn't work though
(tubeman trousers, Sun 6 Feb 2011, 8:52, closed)

hahaha
that showed her! :D
( Finite "Aardvark sorted out my shit!" on, Sun 6 Feb 2011, 16:28, closed)

Click
Love the punchline!
(Che Grimsdale Best before:, Mon 7 Feb 2011, 13:50, closed)

hehe

(bROKEN aRROW PUA HVI Master, Wed 9 Feb 2011, 17:38, closed)